Dave the Cook

Merry Christmas, everyone! Very nice haul, Marlene. Sounds like you were treated like the princess you are. I've made both of the gumbo recipes that Michelle linked to, and they're excellent. Unfortunately, they assume you've already got stock and so forth, rather than working from a carcass, like you'll be doing. Let's try and work through that. I'm hoping you have some smoked sausage left over from the dressing. Eight to 12 ounces is optimal, but this kind of cooking is about making do with what you have. You can supplement with ham, or peameal bacon (Cajun-Canadian fusion!), for that matter. (If you use the bacon, adjust the salt in the recipe accordingly.) Post-Christmas Oakville Gumbo 1 turkey carcass, stripped of most of its meat (including the wings in the stock is a really good idea) 1 bay leaf 1/2 t rubbed sage 1/2 t salt, plus additional for final adjusting 8 ounces (by weight) or 1-1/2 C all-purpose flour 1-1/4 C vegetable oil (peanut, if you've got it) 8 to 12 ounces smoked sausage (andouille preferred, but kielbasa works well, too), in 1/2-inch slices 1 cup chopped onion (about 1 medium) 1/2 cup chopped red (preferred) or green bell pepper (about 1/2 medium) 1/2 cup chopped celery (about 2 stalks) 1 tablespoon chopped garlic (3-4 medium cloves) 3 or 4 green onions, chopped, divided into white and green (the green is for garnish, so it's best to leave them intact until you're ready to serve, or they'll wilt) 1 pound turkey meat, cooked and shredded I prefer mostly dark meat for this, and I bet Brooks does, too) 1 bay leaf Seasoning mix: 1 t kosher salt 1 t ground white pepper 1/2 t ground black pepper 1/2 t cayenne 1/2 t dried thyme 1 t rubbed sage 1/4 t mustard powder Rice (de rigeur with gumbo) 1. Break the carcass down as far as you can: remove the wings and break them into sections (don't forget the tips); cut or tear the breastbone from the backbone; break the backbone into three or four sections; save the thigh and leg bones from dinner -- crack (or hack) them in two. 2. Put the bones in a large pot. Add 1/2 t salt, a bay leaf and sage, and cover with water. Bring slowly to a simmer, and keep it there for two hours or more, adding water to keep the bones covered. The longer you can let this go, the better, up to the point where the bones themselves start to fall apart. 3. Strain the stock through four layers of cheesecloth and chill it. Skim the fat off, and reduce the stock to two quarts. 4. In another large pot, heat the oil (supplement with up to 1/2 turkey fat) until shimmering. Brown the sausage over medium heat and remove to paper towels with a slotted spoon. 5. Add all the flour at once. Stir to combine into a roux, lower the heat to medium-low and cook, stirring constantly, until it's the color of peanut butter. 5. Add the onion, celery and bell pepper, along with half of the seasoning mix. Saute over medium heat until the vegetables are slightly soft, about five minutes. Add the other bay leaf, the white part of the green onion and the garlic. Stir to combine. 6. Add the stock, about a half-cup at a time to start, whisking constantly. (As you incorporate more stock, you can add larger amounts.) Bring the soup to a boil, and simmer for about an hour. 7. Check the seasoning. Add more of the spice mix to taste. Add the sausage and the turkey. Simmer for another 30 minutes, until the sausage is tender and heated through. Remove bay leaf. Adjust salt and pepper. 8. Serve over rice in a soup bowl. Garnish with the green onion, er, greens.

It's not speaking Southern that's giving you trouble, Marlene. It's speaking Brooks.

I'm not really surprised by this. I've never been big on leftover deep-fried chicken, both for the reasons Marlene cited, and because I greatly prefer the pan-fried crust, both right out of the pan, and the next day. In fact, I'll come completely clean and admit that I'm not a fan of deep-fried chicken in general, unless you're cooking for a crowd. Pan-fried is my method of choice.

See you in North Carolina, then.

Me, too.

I knew there was something I liked about you folks.

I agree that under these conditions, it's safe, and I certainly didn't mean to scare anyone. I'm just wondering . . .

I'm wishing we'd had enough notice to send Marlene a Southern care package ahead of time: lard, White Lily SR flour, cane syrup, fresh pecans -- and a pound of grits.

I would have left it out, but then, I'm a guy with a completely naked, 5-bone rib roast sitting on a rack in the bottom of his refrigerator. Since Sunday. Still, this is interesting. Once it's out of the cryovac and exposed to the environment, is it really safe to re-vac it? Some of the nastiest bugs thrive in anaerobic conditions.

I agree with Judith. These biscuits look overworked. It's an amazing thing to watch someone who's made biscuits every day of their lives, and to note how wet the dough is, and how little it's handled. But the biscuits come out the same very time -- light, tangy and moist, even though there appears to be no refined technique being applied at all. Shirley Corriher tells a great story about this in her book Cookwise.

I'm still learning, I guess.

For those keeping score, we've just identified a significant geographical schism among the traditional accompaniments to fried chicken: Phifly: biscuits (where are you from , P?) Louisiana: rice (Brooks) South Atlantic coast: mashed potatoes (Varmint, DtC, and every native Georgian I know)

Most herbs, as well as pepper and chiles, turn bitter when they burn. If you mix the seasonings with the flour, they're on the outside, and exposed directly to the hot fat. You're not going to get a perfect, hide-all-the-spices coating of flour, but this sequence gives you better odds.

What exactly did you change? I cleared up a sequencing problem in steps 3 and 4, plus I added the bit about not rinsing the buttermilk off. Something weird and colloidal happens to the buttermilk overnight, and it becomes viscous and sticky. This lets you get excellent flour adhesion without an egg wash (which is usually not a good thing for deep frying, in my book). I also clarified the flouring procedure. You would think I could give instructions for dropping things into a bag and shaking without screwing them up, but alas, not without rewriting, it seems.

Brilliant. I'm very impressed with your pizza, Marlene. Of course, never having done it successfully myself, I'm easily impressed.

Mine is: Fried chicken (adapted for deep frying) 1 3-1/2 pound chicken, cut into ten pieces: two legs, two thighs, two wings, two breasts halved crosswise; skin intact if possible 1 quart low-fat cultured buttermilk 1C Diamond Crystal kosher salt (or 3/4 C Morton’s kosher salt, or 1/2 C table salt; it really doesn’t matter, except kosher salt dissolves easier) 2T lemon juice 1t pepper sauce 2-3T seasoning mix (see below) 2C flour 1. Pour one quart very hot tap water in a large bowl. Whisk in the salt, lemon juice and pepper sauce. Add one quart of ice water, and stir to blend. 2. Place chicken in brine for three hours, turning pieces every 45 minutes. 3. Drain chicken and rinse. Pour buttermilk into bowl, and add chicken. Cover and refrigerate for at least six hours, and up to 24. Turn chicken every once in a while. 4. Drain chicken in a colander -- but don't rinse it -- then lay out on a rack over a sheet pan (or lay the rack right over the sink, if you can). 5. Start heating the oil to 365 F. Put the flour in a heavy paper bag (authentic) or a zip-lock bag (easier). Get another rack and sheet pan ready, or lay out a good-sized sheet of waxed paper or parchment. 6. Sprinkle the chicken with seasoning mix on all sides. 7. Two or three pieces at a time, either drop the chicken in the bag and shake to coat. As each piece is floured, remove it to the second rack or the paper. 8. Heat oven to 170 F, and set a sheet pan with a rack on the middle oven rack. (If you’re like most people, you’ll have to wash and dry the first one.) 9. When the chicken is dry (or nearly so) and the oil is hot, fry the chicken three or four pieces (as long as the fryer isn’t crowded) at a time, about 15 minutes, to an internal temperature of 160 F for breasts, and 170 F for thighs. Fry the thighs and legs first, then breasts, then wings. As the pieces are done, put them on the rack in the oven, and leave the oven door open a crack. Seasoning mix 2 T sweet paprika 1 t kosher salt 1 t ground ancho chile 1 t ground black pepper 1/2 t dried thyme 1/2 t cayenne 1/2 t granulated garlic 1/2 t granulated onion Note for Marlene: always refrigerate when brining. Another note for Marlene: I made some changes since I sent this to you, so read carefully. Last note for Marlene: you can substitute a decent chili powder for the ancho.

Your chances of finding Lyle's Golden Syrup are probably about equal to Marlene's of finding Steen's.

Marlene will hate it, but I bet Ryan will scarf it up. Let's get a recipe up here.

Or an assemblage of the largest unglazed stone or terra cotta tiles you can find -- enough to line an oven rack, minus an inch or three all the way 'round. Let them heat for a while (like twice as long as the oven takes to come to temperature), so the heat across the tiles has a chance to even out.

You asked for pecan pie recipes. Many people swear by the one in Emeril's New New Orleans Cooking. I've made it several times, and eaten it many more, and I can't disagree. Here it is, adapted for Canadian use (I'm leaving out the crust): Canadian Pecan Pie 4 large eggs 3/4 C sugar 1/2 t salt 3/4 C Lyle's Golden Syrup 3/4 C Grade B maple syrup 1 T melted butter 1 t vanilla extract 1-1/2 C pecan pieces (halves are prettier) 1. Preheat oven to 350 F. 2. Beat the eggs with the sugar and salt. Add syrups, butter and vanilla. Mix until thoroughly combined and frothy (I use a stand mixer with the whisk at low speed). 3. Spread the pecans on the bottom of the pie shell. Pour the filling over them. 4. Bake until firm, about an hour (check at 50 minutes).

I agree about peanut oil as a great choice, though I wouldn't call it cheap, except in comparison to the even more desirable grapeseed oil. I won't comment on greens, though I love this techinique (is chiffonade the term you were looking for?). Call me a pariah, but I'm not a fan of the long-simmered variety.

Very funny. You do it, hero It was a compliment!

Once again, we are foiled in our search for a green vegetable on Marlene's blog. I think the church looks great -- the last time I saw a building that charming, I was on Mulberry Street.

Erm. These places carry the Bob's Red Mill line, which includes very decent stone-ground yellow grits (made in Oregon, but an excellent product, nonetheless): Alternatives Market Barn Market Dominion Food Basics IGA Loblaw's Market Sobey's Market South Oakville Market I knew Canada was civilized enough to have grits.

Decidedly un-Southern. Authenticity demands Steen's 100% Pure Cane Syrup. Brooks will back me up on this. As for the chicken, it's true that a cast-iron pan is traditional. But first, any fried chicken is better than no fried chicken; second, both ways are valid, though different (for instance, I find that deep-fried is not as good the next day, so if you're not expecting leftovers, it's a level playing field); and finally, I figure you've got a new toy, and it needs a workout. Woman does not live by bloomin' onions alone.